The Darkest Riddle
by juno malabre
Summary: What is the history behind the Riddle family? The last Pureblood Riddle’s tale of romance and revenge. R&R please!
1. Chapter One

The Darkest Riddle

By

Juno Malabre

10/3/05

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**Chapter One**

Something rose today. A great, dark wave which ravaged the town, and brought with it the cold creatures, the ones who turn all to ice, and suck the goodness from your soul. They came today.

I should have understood the signals. The muttered meetings in our house grew more and more frequent. Father barely had time to look at me anymore, not that he pays me much attention at the best of times. Not after I was Sorted. But that is something this family never talks about.

Then after the meetings came the ritual. My 'coming of age' as Father called it. Mother laughed when he said that. She was part of the ritual, holding me down as they drew my blood. My own mother did that.

And still, I did not realise.

* * *

Perhaps I should start from the beginning, deluding myself with false hopes that someone will read this, will remember me, and will understand that it was all out of my control.

My name is Morwena Lilith Riddle. I am eighteen years of age, and I am the first Riddle to be Sorted into a house other than Slytherin since my school, Hogwarts School of Wizardry, was founded all those long years ago. I am also the first Riddle girl to be born for at least four centuries. I disappointed my family in more ways than one.

I have two brothers, both older, both Slytherin, and both intent on achieving great evil. Mother used to say that it was natural to feel jealous of older siblings; she even encouraged it, but I am not just jealous. I hate them. I hate them with a fire that consumes my belly and my heart. It is they and my father who are the leaders of all this. My family are always leaders. They can not step away, they can not, _will_ not turn away from a challenge. Power and ambition drive them all, and will drive them to their destruction-

* * *

I must not excite myself. I rest for hours, here, in a house which is empty, devoid of any other life. Each noise in this silence echoes, and merely serves to remind me that I am a traitor. A blood traitor. But I will continue to tell my story.

I am approaching the end of my final year of schooling, my final year as a witch. I have already decided to strip myself of my powers once my training is over. This link to my family and the power it creates is more than I can bear.

My child will be a Riddle, but he will be a Riddle without the legacy of the dark magic with which we all seem to be cursed.

Are you surprised that I am with child? I suppose you are not aware that we Pureblood girls must marry and breed young. But no one wanted me. No one, at least no one my family would accept, wanted a Gryffindor bride. I am glad. For if I were married, I would not have met Tom. I would not be having his child. Although my folly with him cost him his life, and almost cost me mine.

I met him last year, around the old festival of Imbolc. The old festivals are always something I take particular pleasure in, not in the least because my family, for all their Pureblood values, refuse to acknowledge them.

So there I was, in my warded clearing in the Manor's forest nigh on midnight, when a young, dark haired man I had seen somewhere before came upon me.

I stayed deathly still, despite the invisibility wards, but it was as if he could sense me. He knew exactly where I was sitting, and his gaze was fixed on my face. I cast a small reductor curse, just to distract him, and as he looked around for the source of the noise I lifted the wards and removed the notice-me-not spell I had placed upon myself. It was with great difficulty that I did not laugh as he started upon seeing me.

"Who are you?" His voice was warm and deep, and tinged with suspicion.

I bristled like a surprised cat.

"Perhaps I should ask who you are, sir." I am ashamed to say I sneered at him. "And what you are doing on the grounds of the greatest family in England,' I remembered myself. "Aside from her good majesty Queen Elizabeth."

He had the audacity to laugh at me. Granted, it was the nicest laugh I had ever heard, but it was directed at me, and no one laughed at a Riddle. Not knowing that this would be the first time of many, I was tempted to curse him.

"I apologise, my good lady. I heard noises and, as the groundskeeper's apprentice, it is my duty to protect the Manor against intruders. I did not expect their youngest daughter to be taking air at midnight."

Damn. I knew I had seen him before.

However, I managed to regain my dignity perfectly, and shot him one of the famous Riddle glares. After all, he was only a muggle groundsman.

He just ignored me.

"If there is nothing else, my good lady," he said in that infuriating way, "I should get on my way." There was a glint in his eye that made me wonder if he knew more than he seemed.

Suddenly afraid, I dismissed him with a nod of my head, and watching him carefully as he melted back into the trees. How much did he know about my family? He never told me. Not even at the very end.


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter 2

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**

I returned to school and finished the year. He never once left my thoughts, and, as one is wont to do over time and distance, I began to fancy he may have felt something for me, leading him to search me out at the latest hour, the darkest hour, the witching hour. It was make-believe, but it made me look forward to returning home, rather than the dull dread that usually filled my breast.

Upon arriving home, I found the house deserted, as well as the garden. Not that I had spent much time in the garden, I had just returned home. I cast a simple _Trova Personae_ spell for my family. But as I said, there was not a living soul in the grounds.

Leaving my trunks in the hall for the house elves to clear away, I hurried up to my bedchamber as fast as my skirts would let me, and collected my belongings. I think I should inform you now that at the end of each school year, at the earliest opportunity, I would renew the wards surrounding my clearing. And this was the perfect opportunity.

I was halfway back down the stairs when I heard a tread on the front step. A heavy male tread, less delicate than that of my brothers.

I froze, feeling like a criminal in my own home. I am not sure why. The heavy, ornate doorknob turned so slowly that I almost ran to turn it myself, the suspense was intolerable. Who was well known enough to my family to be included in all the house wards?

My mind immediately supplied a name, a name which had not left my mind for the last four months.

I was filled with panic. Due to the spells involved in renewing the wards, I always found it most beneficial to perform skyclad. Now do not misinterpret me, I was not standing on our grand marble staircase as naked as the day I was born, but I was not wearing the appropriate habiliments for a young, modest lady by any length of the imagination, only my thick-tapestried wrapping gown. I pulled it tighter around my body.

And then the door opened, and he stepped into the hall, browner than before, but otherwise hardly changed. I thought briefly that the darker shade suited him before he spotted me standing like a trapped rabbit on the staircase. Once again I found myself subject to his amusement.

Drawing myself up to my full, albeit diminutive height, I demanded just what, exactly, he thought he was doing entering my house.

"I have been sent to accompany you to your family, and am doing what I have been asked to, my…" I held up my hand and he stopped talking. Once again I had come out the worst from our brief exchange. I decided to change my tactic, and flashed him my sweetest smile. He flashed me one right back-he did have the most gorgeous dimples…

"I could take you as you are," he growled in a tone laden with desire, " but I think your mother would prefer to see you dressed." His voice had changed instantly, leaving me feeling a little shaken. "My good lady."

Flushing with embarrassment I stumbled back up the cold steps away from that knowing smile. I had managed to calm myself down by the time I glided down the steps to meet him. I noticed he was not quite as calm as myself as I stopped close enough for him to smell my perfume. I enjoyed watching his slight discomfort, but he recovered well and offered me his arm to lead me to the waiting carriage. I was more than willing to accept.

We battled our wits again and again during the journey to where my family were. That single hour or so was quite possibly the happiest of my life. This was the first time that a man, and a muggle servant man no less, had treated me as an equal. No one treated me like this. It was a breath of fresh air.

"We should arrive before two." He said after our first moment of silence for the whole journey. This meant we would arrive within the next twenty minutes. I could not help it. I let out a sigh of disappointment which immediately caused him to smile.

"Perhaps my lady wishes this journey to be longer. Perhaps she wishes never to leave the carriage." He smirked as he came to sit beside me. He was moving closer, yet for all my 'grooming for marriage' as father liked to call the sordid affairs he arranged for me, I could not kiss him just yet. Not only would it be the greatest betrayal I could commit against my family, but it would also admit to myself just how much I liked him. And if I let him kiss me, would I be able to stop at just a kiss? I pushed him gently away from my side.

"Tom," I breathed, using his given name, "I do believe you are making improper advances."

"My lady," he replied in the same breathy tone, "I do believe that if I were to make any improper advances, which I am not, you would not only let me but would encourage them."

I should have slapped him for that. But deep down I knew he was right, and that stayed my hand as the carriage came to a jolting stop.

Immediately he lost the warm, friendly manner he had entertained during the journey. I struggled to do the same as he led me into a house which I vaguely recognised as Malfoy Manor. Although what we were doing here was beyond me.

He left me in the hands of their house elf, not even looking back as he walked away. He did not even call me his lady. I could not think what I had said or done to merit such a response.

I did not have long to ponder his behaviour. As I stepped inside the house, my mother appeared from one of the inner rooms. She had a gleam in her eye which would have terrified me, had I not been so preoccupied with the state of the Malfoy 'Manor'. What right it had to the title of manor I shall never know.

"You have taken your time, Morwena." The coldness of my mother's tone sent a shiver down my spine, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sorry, Madame." I curtsied. "I was not aware you had need of me until T…the groundsman's apprentice fetched me." I corrected myself quickly. She raised an eyebrow but let it pass.

"I was against that muggle bringing you here," she said, turning and motioning me to follow her. "But you had to be accompanied according to your father's wishes. I am sure that boy knows too much. I shall have to renew his memory spells…"

I nodded demurely; surprised my mother had noticed anything about a muggle. Her disdain of our 'lesser' human servants was notorious.

She guided me into one of the small rooms off the hall. It was pitch black except for a small ring of candles in the centre of a circle of high backed chairs. She pushed me forward into the ring, and although I knew I was surrounded by people, I could not see a single face. A voice I recognised as my father's rang out of the blackness ahead of me.

"Morwena. Step forward and drink all contained in the goblet presented to you."

Oh. One of these.

As I stepped forward, a house elf, probably the same one that opened the door for me, thrust a goblet with the requisite smoke drifting down the sides towards me before scuttling off. The liquid, an opalescent blue, smelt sharp-definitely some kind of Veritaserum, and seemingly strong. The circle of chairs saw my hesitation, and a different voice which I did not recognise, spoke.

"Drink it girl!" he pitched the next question towards where my father was. "Did you teach her no decorum, Francis?"

My father growled as I hurriedly swallowed down the potion. I had been at the receiving end of my father's wrath far too many times to hesitate further.

I moved back into the centre of the pool of light when I had finished the potion.

"State your name and age." Yet another voice shot out of the darkness.

"Morwena Lilith Riddle, seventeen." My own voice sounded distant, a strangers.

"Birthday."

"Eighteenth of December."

There was a murmuring among the seated before my father's voice spoke out once more.

"How many have you had relations with?"

I tried to hold back but my mouth spilled my secrets of its own accord.

"Ten: Darion, Iain, Nikolaus, Mattius, Daniel, Robert, Henry, Edouard, Peto, and you my Lord."

"So many, Francis?" said the first unknown voice again. I could barely hear him over the raised muttering.

"To make a good wife only." My father replied sharply. "But it does not matter. She is pure enough for what we intend."

Then I was led out of the light, out and away from those demanding tones. Someone grabbed me from behind and something was forced down my throat, some fiery, burning liquid, which scorched all the way down to my belly, before I sank out of consciousness.

* * *

**A/N: To answer some questions… **

**Morwena is living in the 16th century, around the time of Queen Elizabeth I. She is mainly good, hence why she was Sorted into Gryffindor, but of course, being brought up into an 'evil' Pureblood family will have some effect on her.**

**Secondly, I partly chose Lilith because it would have been what her mother had chosen for her. And I know that sounds weird talking about my characters as if they are real, but to me they are. Also I partly chose it because I found the name in one of my books, The Children of the Dust, and the girl in that intrigued me.**

**Thirdly, this Tom is obviously not Voldemort or his dad, but I thought it would be quite interesting to have a muggle fall in love with a Pureblood Riddle, considering how ironic it is when Voldemort's dad leaves his mother because she is a witch.**

**Thanks go to Virginia Malfoy Riddle for inspiring this story, Circe la Fey for Beta-ing, Fippets for reading over my shoulder whilst typing at school, Taurus07 for reviewing (get on with your stories!) and Dr. Rubadinghy for being so soppy, you old git.**

**Also, I now plan to only A/N either at the end of the story or #fingers crossed# after 100 reviews.**


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three

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**

When I awoke, in my own bed, it was pitch black. I was still disorientated from whichever potion they had force fed me, but this was not the first time I had been subject to these talks, and I waited patiently for the effects, and throbbing, to pass.

Somewhere a clock struck three.

My eyes snapped open as it occurred to me that now would be the absolute perfect time to reinforce my wards. I swung my legs out of bed and stood, almost collapsing again from a sudden rush of blood to the head. I regained my balance and gathered my belongings from where I had dropped them in haste earlier. Slipping out of my nightdress, I donned my wrapping gown once more and descended the stairs hurriedly.

My footfalls echoed eerily throughout our deserted entrance hall, despite my efforts to silence them, and the heavy oak door clicked loudly as it closed behind me. Gathering the folds of material about my shivering body, I ran from the house into the woods, my wand clutched at my side.

I was half expecting Tom to appear from behind a tree as I disentangled myself form clawing branches and ran ever further onwards, so it was no surprise to me that he was sitting on my fallen log when I finally stumbled into the clearing. I stopped abruptly, unsure of what to say. He solved that problem for me.

"Here again, my lady?" I nodded mutely to his obvious question. "Just as I thought then. Were you hoping to find me?"

I quickly found my voice at this breech of decency.

"No I was not. I do not go searching for gardeners' apprentices." I flicked my heavy-lashed eyes at him. "No matter how persistent they are."

I hid a smile as he recoiled at my answer; it was obviously not what he was expecting, and I finally felt I had won a point against him. But even as I was silently enjoying my victory, he took me completely unawares by stepping forward and wrapping his great hands around one of mine. I thanked whichever god was listening for the fact that my wand was in my other hand.

"I do believe you are wronging yourself again, Tom" I managed to say, desperately trying to ignore the jolts of electricity surging through my body at the feel of his hands against my own. He just smiled that wicked smile of his.

"That I may be, my lady, but you cannot deny you wish me to." His mellifluous voice seemed to fill the clearing, and I knew then, as he leaned forward to capture my lips with his, that I was all but lost.

* * *

So. Another midnight passed without the wards being renewed. For once, however, I did not care one little bit. The night had been well spent.

That morning, I was certain my mother would suspect something from the blushes which constantly graced my cheeks. My lips felt bruised, although his kisses were gentle. So different from the rough groping I had endured from various over-eager pureblood Slytherins.

My mother appeared distracted over the usual formal family breakfast, but I thought nothing of it until she entered my bed chamber some time later, interrupting my musing of the previous night.

"This summer," my mother started, "will be a most important summer for you, Morwena."

"How do you mean, Madame?" I said, not really thinking of her answer. I was planning my next meeting with Tom.

"It will be your preparation for your coming of age." That shook me out of my thoughts faster than lightning. My coming of age had been talked about since…well since I was born I presume. As far as I could gather from half-heard conversations, it was a kind of initiation ceremony to the family. Something in which I had to prove my worth, and help the family perform something dreadful. My father's involved the destruction of a small, muggle coastal town in Cornwall. However, my mother left the room before I could question her further, leaving me to wonder what my own preparation would involve.

I had one single week of bliss before the preparation began. One week in which I spent every day in the garden, or the forest, or down by the lake, or in the village. One week in which I spent every day in the company of Tom. On the last day I met him for the last time in our clearing. I explained that I could not see him, not even once for the rest of the summer. As I waited for his response, I formulated answers to questions, which, in the end, never came.

"Well then, my lady, this is our goodbye." Was all he said. I bit my lip to hold back tears which threatened to fall. How could he stay so calm when I felt like my heart was being torn out at the thought of leaving, of losing him? He gave me a single kiss on my forehead, before turning and walking away from me. As he reached the edge of the clearing, he turned back briefly.

"I shall see you again, my lady beautiful, before you return to school. That I promise you." And with that, he walked away.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4

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I returned, broken hearted, some hours later to a house full of beautiful ladies in glittering dresses, and handsome men in dark suits, and a very angry mother who dragged me all the way to my room, thrust a dress at me and threw me inside to change. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I had forgotten my mother had arranged a party to celebrate the beginning of my coming of age. The dress was absolutely hideous, as far as I was concerned. The bodice was so low cut I may have just worn the skirts and there would not be much difference, and the dress itself was a ghastly dark green, which made my pale skin look sallow and my blue eyes look washed out.

One of our many house elves appeared at the door to present me to our company. Heaving a sigh at my appearance, I gave a final tug to my bodice, and draped my dress robes over my bare shoulders before following the little creature down into the hall.

It was quite possibly the single worst night of my life.

Not only was I leered at from afar by many of my male contempories, the majority of whom schooled abroad, but I was forced to dance with countless numbers of my father's friends and clients, many of whom were old, and smelled completely dreadful. And made no effort in pretending that they were not looking straight down my bodice. With each new gentleman groping me as we whirled about the dance floor, I felt a wave of heart ache wash over me, as I was reminded of Tom and his tenderness towards me.

Forbidden from touching the wine, I diverted my attention from my dance partners by focusing on who, exactly, had been invited. To my surprise, I noticed more than one member of the Malfoy family that night. My family obviously believed that they were either invaluable to my preparation, or on the rise in our world. I am inclined to believe the former. There were also of course some of the older, more prestigious families, although I noticed one ancient line seemed to be prominently missing from that night's events. The Weasleys, it seemed, were on the wane. Which was a pity, as I had rather an affinity with Iain Weasley, the oldest of the sons. After innocently asking my current partner why they were not present, I was enlightened to the fact that the family seemed to be becoming increasingly 'Gryffindor', and therefore not fit to associate with us Purebloods.

My family makes me sick.

Interrupting my seemingly innocuous conversation, my father tapped on one of the many glasses with a fork. A hush fell on the room almost immediately; he had no need to call for silence.

"I am sure there is no need to inform you as to why you are here tonight." There was a murmuring of agreement from the crowd, and one inebriated 'Hear, Hear!" from towards the back of the room. "Many of you know my daughter, Morwena, and have seen her grow up. Well, now is the time of her Coming of Age, and through her, will begin our Time of Rising. No longer will we hide ourselves away from the Muggles! No longer! We will gain complete power, and they shall bow down to us. But for my daughter to complete this, we will need your help! You know what you must do!" Harsh cheers emitted from the crowd of elegant people in the room. I could stay no longer. Excusing myself from the partner and surrounding company, I hurried away from the sight of my father leading his friends into something terrible.

* * *

And so my preparation began. Much of the first few weeks was endless reading of heavy tombs about shadows, necromancy, Shifters, Suckers, any number of the un-dead. I learnt about the great void that lay between our world and the next, a void which was thinner than a thousandth of a hairs breadth, but which still housed ghastly demons that would leech on to your spirit until you died from the burden; spirits which glided between the worlds like mist, but would drain your body of any life fluids if you walked into the mist. I learnt of lethifolds, of mangemorts and deatheaters, both of which covered graves, so that when a spirit tried to join the next world, they would be trapped forever.

And then came the spells. First, just the theory, which meant more reading and memorising of, spells which would put a great tear in the void and release all these creatures upon mankind. Then I learned spells which would harness these creatures, bind them to me to do my bidding, to attack who I chose. And then I had to practise these spells to an extent where if called upon to open the void, I could do in a wandsflash.

If I had been concentrating more on the task at hand, and not on Tom, or how to memorise spells, or where to find a lethifold, perhaps I would have realised. Perhaps I would have pieced together the clues they were feeding me a little at a time among the books, and discovered my task. And then again, perhaps not.

Of course, my constant spells which tried to rip the fabric between worlds could not occur in one place, oh no, for then I would break through before I could control whatever I released. This is where the 'help' my father talked about, came in. his friends and clients allowed me to practise in their own homes, knowing the risk that if the spell was too powerful, I might unleash the void dwellers upon them. But that, it seemed, was the price they were willing to pay, and I never questioned where I was to be sent.

Only, I never got sent to the Malfoys.

This struck me as dreadfully strange, seeing how amicable they had become with my father. But the moments of worrying about this were few and far between as I was sent to practise this spell, or read this book, or go to this house, or fetch this ingredient. The list was endless, and I did not have a moment to think. Which is, of course, how they meant it to be.

And then, at the end of the summer, I was summoned to my father's study for an interview, before I returned for my final year at school.

I entered his shadowy room with some trepidation. It was a place I had rarely been allowed in, and never alone. I briefly looked about me, and then stepped up to my father's desk and swept a low curtsey.

"You requested to see me, my Lord." I said quietly, holding my gaze on the rich red carpet. I could just see him give a slight acquiescing nod out of the corner of my eye.

"Morwena." The way he said my name made me shudder. "I trust you will not mention any facts about your preparation once you return to school."

"No, my Lord."

"Very well. Your coming of age will take place on the midnight of the twenty fourth of December." He looked up from a piece of parchment on the desk. "I believe your school finishes for Michaelmas on the fifteenth, three days before your birthday. Correct?"

"Yes, my Lord." I was like a startled rabbit.

"Well then, you may have the first two days as rest, and then on your Birthday we shall start the preparations for your coming of age."

"Thank you, my Lord."

"You may go." And at that release from him, I scurried out of the study and into the grounds to search for Tom.

I found him in our rose garden discussing the winter roses with my mother. She refused to let him near her, even when he was trying to show her one of the new breeds he had created. Her look of relief when I told her I needed to talk to him about planting for my private garden whilst I was away was obvious. Her dislike of muggles prevented her from seeing my real intention: to get him alone.

We pretended to be looking at some potential winter flowers as I told him of my plans.

"I am free for two days before my birthday, my love. It is to be free time, which I can spend as I choose, and…" I looked sideways at his face shyly, "I want to spend them with you, if you will let me."

A glint came into his beautiful eyes. "Just what are you suggesting, my lady? Not something improper?"

Oh he knew exactly what I was planning, and when I told him, he agreed. I meant not only to spend the days together, but the night as well, as husband and wife, even though it was impossible for me to marry him. But he agreed that in our hearts, we would know that we were far more than any legally wedded man and wife. And one day, I would throw off the shackles of my family and go to join him, and live as a muggle for the rest of our days.

What pretty castles we build when life seems fine again and we are with the ones we love. Indeed, how was I to know that a dark shadow was looming over us, even then, just waiting to come crashing down and destroy my idyllic dream? If only I knew then what I know now. Would I have been able to make any difference? For what mortals can stand in the path of Fate when She bears down in all her fierce glory?


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five

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And so, the term flew by as I waited for those two days to come. Questions were asked by those who knew about my preparation, some to prepare for their own, some to satisfy curiosity. But I remained silent, with my demure smile fixed on my lips. One of my acquaintances (for show me the blood traitor who can really claim to be friends with others) asked if I were to be married, and I hugged my secret, struggling not to laugh as she hit so close to the mark.

September changed to October, and Samhain, which melted into November, and then the snows fell, signalling December. And all of a sudden I was on my way home for Michaelmas.

Except, I wasn't.

I had informed my parents that one of my schoolfellows had invited me to stay in the days running up to my birthday, but that I would be home again on the morning of my birthday. But there was no schoolfellow, only Tom, and we were meeting in London, and spending two whole wonderful days in each other's company.

He met me at the entrance to Diagon Alley, in the new tavern, the Leaky Cauldron. He had procured a room there, and carried me over the threshold as if we really were man and wife. He carried me all the way to the bed, upon which he laid me and then…

Well, that is not something I should divulge here.

But I will tell you that those two days and a night will stay with me, and comfort me for the rest of my life, no matter what else happens.

* * *

I took the dark clouds that surrounded my house when I returned to be harbingers of rain. They were not, they were the accumulation of the dark spells my father and his friends had been casting for my coming of age. But I was not to discover that just yet. 

In the handful of days leading up to my Coming of Age, I was purified in as many different ways as were physically possible. Countless spells were performed on my hair, my body, and my blood. I was not allowed to eat salty foods, or rich foods, or drink wine, or any potions. I lived off bread, thin soup and water for six days. But other than this interminable purification process, I was allowed to do pretty much what I wanted. As long as I did not leave the house.

That was the worst part of those six days: I could not see Tom. I could not relive the two days in London, I could not touch his hand once more, I could not even look at him sideways while pretending to examine flowers. I was alone with my thoughts, and they were not happy ones. I was worried about what was to come. The thick wreaths of black cloud now encircled the manor, and the hill upon which it stood. In fact, they blanketed the tiny church nearby, as well as a large portion of our village. When the day of the twenty-fourth dawned, they clouds were so thick and dark as to be called black, although that was only up around the house. According to my mother, down in the village the skies were much cleared her. How I wish now that I had not believed her.

The activity which had been happening inside the house over the last few days grew into a frenzy barely before the sun had risen, and I do believe from the point of view of someone on the outside, the house may have resembled a giant beehive with me as a half queen, right in the centre of things.

Immediately after waking I was ordered to bathe by my mother, and she oversaw the house elves, and heated the water with her own wand. I believe she was trying to scorch the skin off my body; the water was scalding. Then I was taken to one of our many antechambers and dressed in pure white robes. This was novel in itself as, apart from dress robes, we barely wore robes to perform magic unless partaking in very formal rituals or ceremonies. I was then led to a small, dark room somewhere in the East Wing.

Our manor house is…big. Nowhere near the size of Hogwarts of course, but still very large. There are many parts of the house that I am unaware even exist, after all, there is no one who would willingly go with me to explore all the turning passages, and one should only go so far alone in a magic household. And so, I had never actually come across the set of rooms I was led to. My mother turned in the doorway.

"Someone will come for you once we are ready. I suggest you rest or practise the spells you learnt on the void."

"Yes, Ma…" I started to say, but she had already left. The key turned in the lock with an audible click.

There was nothing else for me to do. Utterly sick and tired of the spells, I transfigured some chairs into a reasonable size bed and lay down upon it. Something in the room, perhaps the lack of light, had a highly soporific effect on me, and I fell into a light sleep.

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**A.N. Well...10 is close to 100 isn't it?**

**#looks around sadly# no...Anyway, would just like to say a huge thanks to my thousands of reviewers...c'mon you lazy lot! This is my first finished story, and am anticipating maybe two more chapters, if that.**

**JM xx**


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six

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**

I awoke to a loud knocking at the door, and,after rearranging my slightly crumpled clothes, I called for the person to open it. A masked man, similarly dressed in white, motioned for me to step out into the corridor, before closing the door and locking it once more. He then set off, and I was half running to keep up with him as he turned first left, then right, then left again down similar looking hallways.

Suddenly we stopped.

"We're here, M'lady." He said in a gruff voice before opening a plain looking door. I stepped inside.

I suppose part of me was expecting the dark, candle-lit room of my inquisition at the beginning of the summer, but I was surprised at how light the room actually was. There was a stone table in the centre of the room, cut all over with strange lines and figure, which seemed to move in the candle-light. Two more robed and masked figures took their place beside me and led me to the table. As I stepped closer I saw a great deep channel running down each edge, leading to a brass cauldron, already filled with a steaming, bubbling potion.

I wracked my memory for any hints of what this potion might be, but could find none. Perhaps it was something my father had had specially invented for the occasion. Whatever it might have been, it did not look pleasant, and I was beginning to debate just how much use I would be in this Coming of Age. My fears were confirmed when rough hands suddenly grabbed my arms and pinned me onto the stone table, and I was bound to the table at each corner. The bright lamps flickered and dimmed considerably, and I felt, rather than heard, the people within the room move into a new formation, as if they were expecting something.

Although I could not see him I knew, I just knew, that my father would be somewhere here, and would possibly lead this ritual. His voice suddenly boomed throughout the room, far stronger than I had ever heard it.

"We are here to witness my daughter's Coming of Age." There was a murmur of agreement from the masked people that was scarily reminiscent of the gathered crowd at the ball.

"Through her we will come to rule over the muggles. Tonight, our little village will be destroyed, now is the time to show our power. You all know what you must do."

Once again I had the sense that people had moved, although there were no sounds to affirm my guess. Suddenly a low chant started up, and I unwillingly shivered as I made out the words.

"Bone of the father, willingly given, flesh of the servant, forcibly taken, blood of the daughter, unknowingly given." They repeated it again and again, until the room seemed to be full of these fierce whispers. After I had lain there for a while with no indication of any further happenings, I realised that the words had seemed to lose all meaning. Aside from the cold stone pressing into my back, if I closed my eyes I could almost imagine that I was lying in a field listening to the wind gently ruffle the trees. I tried to hold onto this fantasy, it made me half forget what I would have to do.

And then the whispering stopped.

I managed to lift up my head ever so slightly, and I watched my father walk slowly towards the cauldron and me. He stopped by my feet, and I could clearly see his face. His was triumphant, unlike mine, which I was sure showed fear and horror at the situation. I could feel the tears prick at the back of his eyes as I realised I was just a part of his greater plan.

"Bone of the father, willingly given." The words were crystal clear in the sudden silence.

My blood ran cold as he lifter his wand and pointed it at his forearm.

"Accio Ulna."

I watched in horror as his flesh split apart, revealing the bare bones within his arm. The upper bone detached itself and floated over the cauldron before dropping into the liquid within. I dragged my eyes back to my father's face, but his expression had not changed. He seemed to be feeling no pain in the face of what he was doing for the 'good' of the magic community.

Whatever was in the cauldron turned a glowing blue.

"Flesh of the servant, forcibly taken." The words cut through me like ice. I knew what they were about to do, whom they were about to bring in. I held my breath as the door inched open, and I heard a body being dragged in. I craned my head once more in order to look at the lifeless figure, and in one brief glance, my hopes were destroyed.

"Tom…" I could not stop the word from escaping my lips, and the masked people closest to me flinched at my pitiful tone. Our little time together flashed rapidly before my eyes as the scrape of flesh over stone flooring filled my ears. Oh God, oh God! How could they do this? Why did I not think to find out what all this would involve. I would never see his smile, hear his voice, feel his warm skin ever again.

My senses seemed heightened and I heard the knife cut into his skin. Although I could not see, I knew they were slowly removing the flesh from the bones, I had seen this process described in one of my many books.

I hoped they would kill me, as the splashes from his boneless flesh hitting the potion echoed around the room. But it was not to be.

Two figures came to stand over me. As I looked up one of the figures raised her mask and smiled down at me, a twisted, evil smile. It was my mother. She raised an arm, and I aw the glint of a blade as she plunged it down into the crook of my elbow. The other figure did the same. I felt nothing but the quick trickle of blood as it flowed down my arm into the channels by my side. The metallic stench of fresh blood filled my nostrils and I fought not to retch.

And so it was done. The potion was complete, and my wounds were swiftly healed. They did not want extra blood to ruin their precious plans.

Each witch or wizard within the room touched the surface of the potion with his or her wand. A bright jet of light shot upwards from the cauldron, and I knew in that instant a rip had been torn in the fabric of the worlds in the middle of that very room. Silvery shields sprang up around the room, blanketing everyone, presumably to protect them from whatever was about to enter our world.

Through the silvery haze I could see raggedy black shadows emerge from the pillar of light and begin to drift around the room. I had read about these, closely related to the lethifolds. Dementors. Turning away from the silver shields, they drifted out through the open windows to find their prey. A great black burning shadow followed them.

* * *

I do not remember much after that. Someone carried me to my chamber and left me on my bed, where I awoke the next morning. In a panic I ran to the window, but could see nothing of our pretty village. It was not shrouded in cloud, as it had been the previous week, there was literally nothing to see. No buildings, no trees, no people. Only our manor and our little church remained standing, but scorched black by whatever had passed over us.

I dressed as fast as I could in my least expensive clothes. I looked at myself carefully in the mirror. I could just about pass myself off as a ladies maid to a very rich lady. And we were a very well known rich family.

I ran.

I ran out of our house, and across the black ground, which signalled where our village once stood. I ran all the way to the next village, hoping against hope that the black cloud would not rise again until nightfall. I was lucky, it was still standing.

I searched out the village leaders and witch hunter, and told them I was a maid come from the Riddle household in the Little Hangleton. I denounced my family as performers of the darkest witchcraft, and told them that the village was destroyed. I told them they must be killed immediately. That I had seen it all. That they could not stand on trial.

* * *

I betrayed my blood, as they had betrayed me. And now I have seen them die, hanged on hastily constructed scaffolding.

With their death, the fire under the cauldron went out, and the white pillar of light vanished. Although I believe the dementors will still be roaming the country looking for souls.

I will finish the year, and then relinquish my claim to the Wizarding world forever.

Howevermagic does have some uses. It helped me find out I was with child when I was checking over my body for any damage. It helped me discern that it was his. And it helped me discern that it will be a boy.

My son will bear our names, as will all his sons after him, and he will be a muggle.

The End


End file.
